Like This
by BeautifullyTragic10
Summary: Roger has always been there for Maureen. The ups and downs of life have created an important relationship between the two.


Disclaimer: Rent belongs to Jonathan Larson.

A/N: I haven't written anything in a while and I was inspired. Feedback would be greatly appreciated. Thanks.

Like This

Roger is eleven. He is sitting on the floor of his living room, guitar in hand. The door bell rings and there is Maureen, with the same wild curly hair and big eyes. Ten years old and teary eyed. A purple spot is beginning to form on her pale cheek.

"Roger," she said, blinking away tears.

"Did he hit you again?" Roger asked.

Stupid question. Of course he hit her again. He being her step father. He was violent and sleazy, but never at the right times. Only when her mother wasn't looking. He hit her every few weeks. The reasons varied. Maybe she was in the wrong place at the wrong time or one of his drunken rages. It didn't matter. She would show up at Roger's house with a new purple spot on her cheek. He threatened to rape her if she told her mother. She kept her mouth shut. So every couple weeks, she 'tripped down the stairs' or 'fell off a swing at the park'. She mumbled something and kept her eyes down.

"Come on," Roger said, opening the door wider to let her in.

She sat down on the floor and he sat down next to her. He started to play the guitar, rather poorly. She closed her eyes and listened to the music. She needed Roger like this.

Roger is fifteen. He is sitting in his bedroom, guitar in hand. His laying has improved in the last four years. The door bell rings. He gets up and opens the door. Standing there is Maureen, with her same curly hair and wide eyes. She is fourteen and sobbing uncontrollably. This time there were bruises on her arms. The matched the one that was forming on her cheek. She was unable to speak.

"Maureen! What the hell happened to you?" Roger shouted.

She winced at the noise. Roger took a deep breath to calm down.

"I'm sorry," he said, "Come on."

He opened the door and let her in. Silently, she walked up to his room and Roger followed close behind. She sat down on his bed and he sat next to her.

"What happened?" he asked.

She shook her head and more tears began to fall from her eyes. He reached out to touch her arm, she went rigid and pulled away.

"Did that bastard hit you again?"

Again she shook her head.

"Did that ass rape you?" he asked, shouting again.

She flinched. She nodded her head yes. Even more silent tears began to fall. Anger bubbled up inside him, but he had to stay cool, for her sake. He slowly wrapped his arms around her. At first she flinched, but eventually she relaxed in his arms. The two of them laid on his bed together, his arms wrapped around her trembling body. He started to sing. She closed her eyes and listened. As he sang he silently prayed that no one at school would find out about this. The didn't need to know what happened to Maureen, they also didn't need to know that he did this kind of stuff for her. No one needed to know that sometimes she need him like this.

Sometimes, Roger couldn't believe that she needed him like she did. She showed a side of herself to him she showed no one else. Maureen was always cheerful, energetic and had a spirit like no one else he knew. She had an intense passion for life that no one could ever damage, even her step father. He hit her and abused her, but he could never damage her spirit.

Roger is seventeen, sitting on his bed guitar in hand. The door bell rings. He opens the door and someone flies in kissing him on the lips. Maureen. Sixteen and smiling. He runs a finger down her cheek. There is no purple bruise today. He kisses her, tangling his fingers in her wild hair. They have been dating for a month and they couldn't be happier. He pulled her to his room and they collapsed into bed. Hastily, they began to pull off each other's clothes. They has clumsy, first time sex. The needed each other like this. Afterward, they lay together. She moved her hand and put it over his. She smiled and

so did she. This was the Maureen he loved, smiling and content with the world.

Roger is nineteen. Standing in his living room, guitar in hand, overnight bag at his feet. The door bell rings and he opens the door. There is Maureen, eighteen and ready for the world. She had an overnight bag in her hand.

"Ready?" she asked.

"Ready." Roger said, smiling.

Together they walked to the bus terminal.

"How can I help yas?" the lady behind the counter asked.

"Two tickets to New York City."

New York City, the center of the universe. Every small town kid's dream. They were going to New York City and never going back. They both need to do this.

Roger is twenty-one. He is sitting on the floor of the bathroom, shaking uncontrollably. Mark told him he would be right back, he said something about going to get Collins. His body shook violently with every dry heave. Withdrawal was a bitch, Mark wasn't kidding. There was a knock at the door, but Roger was too sick to hear it.

"Roger, it's Maureen. Come on, let me in."

No answer came from inside the loft. She pulled the door open and let herself in.

"Roger?"

She looked around, no Roger. She wandered into the bathroom.

"Damn it! Roger!"

She collapsed onto the floor, taking Roger in her arms. Smoothing down his sweat soaked hair, she spoke to him in a calm, soothing voice. It was those damn drugs and that bitch April. She almost destroyed him. She got him into drugs and gave him AIDS. She would kill her again if she had the chance. Roger shook violently again. She tightened her arms around him, trying to get him to relax, because this time, he needed her like this.

A/N: Thanks for reading. Feedback would be wonderful.


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